


Champions Privilege

by NerdyAdjacent



Series: The Evil!Seth Compendium [7]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, Choking, Community: wrestlingkink, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Evil!Seth, For God sakes if you ain't into it please don't read it, Forced Orgasm, I hope you all come visit me in hell, Kidnapping, M/M, Pain, Prompt Fill, Rape/Non-con Elements, THIS WILL NOT BE FOR EVERYONE, Triggers, VERY NON CON, Violence, ambreigns if you squint, ambrollins - Freeform, dark!fic, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7804531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>READ THE TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING</p><p>Seth was reduced to watching him from a distance, marking his routine, noting his patterns. Dean was a predictable son of a bitch, but volatile. He'd have to be careful about how he planned his next moves because, as far as Dean was concerned, Seth Rollins was worth nothing but several dozen punches to the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:
> 
> Seth and Dean ends up on terms where Dean cant stand within two feet of him without raining him with his fists. Seth feels they never got closure and Dean is a stubborn bitch who refuses to listen. So he kidnaps Dean, tie him up and has his way with Dean's body. I want Seth to be gone on the deep end, VERY dark...siding with Authority has helped him connect with his darker side. He makes Dean uncomfortable, like sniffing him longingly, caressing Dean's legs and ass before fucking him while talking all creepy...just using Dean's body for his pleasure. Backstory can be he always wanted to fuck Dean but Dean was too absorbed in Roman and now that Seth no longer cares about and says fuck you to morals he's free to do whatever. Authority is backing him up so he cant get in any trouble. 
> 
> Please someone give me this dark shit!

Seth was reduced to watching him from a distance, marking his routine, noting his patterns. Dean was a predictable son of a bitch, but volatile. He'd have to be careful about how he planned his next moves because, as far as Dean was concerned, Seth Rollins was worth nothing but several dozen punches to the face.

But here's the thing. Dean Ambrose didn't get a say in what was about to happen to him. No, Dean Ambrose was about to hate Seth more than he ever would, and Dean Ambrose would beg for mercy before it's over. That's because Seth just didn't care anymore, thanks to the Authority and their take no prisoners attitude. 

He remembered the day clearly when they asked him what he wanted for turning on the Shield, what he _needed_ , as their future champion. “I want Dean Ambrose at my mercy to do whatever I want to.” He had said. When they offered to protect him, to help him, he was admittedly anxious, but that delicious anticipation of finally having the Lunatic under him was enough to drive him forward.

It was more difficult than he thought it would be. Dean was a crafty, smart, resourceful man who had now made it his life's mission to take Seth down in the ring. Personally, Dean would never have looked at him twice had he suggested a night together. Even before Seth destroyed the Shield, Dean and Roman had been together as whatever the fuck they were calling themselves. All he knew is they never were as quiet as they thought they were when they thought he wasn't awake. It was infuriating to have to pretend to sleep while they fucked, pretend to be none the wiser when they pretended nothing happened the following morning. 

“Win the title.” Stephanie had said. “Win it and we’ll make sure you get Dean to yourself.”

So that's what he did. Wrestlemania he cashed in his money in the bank contract and pinned Dean's little Samoan toy to become the champ. Now he'd get what he wanted, what he _deserved_! 

The trap had been set and he waited, he watched. It was only a matter of time now. Dean would be his and he had no intention of going easy on him. Deans little vendetta against him had done nothing but incense him to make this as uncomfortable for him as he could, because why the fuck not? That would teach him a lesson he'd sure as shit never forget. 

Once Seth knew Deans pattern, he would be easy to take, but he wouldn't be the one to do it. No, Kane and Orton had agreed to kidnap Dean and bring him into the empty arena, but Seth wanted to watch. Predictably, Dean was the last to leave after the show that night, always one for taking his time and letting the crowds dissipate. From his vantage point, he could see Dean adjust the bag on his shoulder and dig for his keys in his pocket. Randy and Kane would be waiting. 

He watched as Kane stepped up to Dean and began talking to him, whatever they were talking about had Dean flailing his hands angrily. But this was a distraction as Randy snuck up behind and shoved a rag over Dean's mouth and nose. Chloroform. Within a few seconds Dean had stopped struggling and hung lifeless as Kane fireman carried him back into the arena. Randy cleaned up Dean's bag and hid them. Then he walked to where Seth was hiding and handed him a duffle. “Stephanie said you asked for these.”

“Thanks.” Seth said and opened it to make sure everything he had wanted was there. He felt a new anticipation run through his veins at the sight of it, anxious now to get Dean under him and his control. He had been half hard at the way they took him, but damn if the sight of all these toys made the blood travel right to his dick. 

“He'll be in the ring.” Orton instructed. “We'll be patrolling the arena to make sure you're not disturbed. Try not to get blood everywhere.”

“No promises.” Seth sneered and Orton clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh. 

“Welcome to the Champions Privilege, my friend.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I've decided, I'm officially a psychopath.

He didn't know how long chloroform was meant to last, but he knew it wasn't long. Color him surprised that Dean was already stirring in the middle of the ring where he had been unceremoniously deposited in a crumpled heap. Kane had also taken his jacket and shoes, leaving him in nothing but a faded Philadelphia Flyers tee shirt and a pair of old, frayed jeans. 

Without the crowds, the arena was eerily silent and every footfall he made down the ramp seemed to echo off the seats. Then there was Dean, groaning ever so softly, but the sound amplified in the quiet space. It sent a shockwave through him at those small little sounds he made. The proud man reduced to nothing but his play thing. The warm flush of anticipation, that vibrating need, that absolute want almost too much to hold steady. But he did. He did because he wanted Dean to beg, he wanted Dean to cry, he wanted to see the hot tears streaming down his face. He wanted it because he could. This was his prize, his gift for winning, and he could now live out every dark fantasy he had with the man who would beat the living shit out of him as soon as look at him if he could. In Seths mind, this was retribution. This is what he was _owed_. 

He wondered if Dean had any clue what was about to happen to him when he climbed up onto the apron and watched with curious interest as the Lunatic Fringe began to move. He was a heavy, uncoordinated mess as he managed to shift his groggy body into his stomach as if about to crawl. His fingers were weakly clawing at the mat, trying to drag his body up, away, anything. Seth wasn't even sure he'd seen him yet, but he knew Dean wasn't stupid; Dean knew something was about to happen and it wouldn't be good. Instincts take over and the fight or flight response kicks in. 

A curiously amused smirk split his face and he slipped under the ropes, still careful to stay out of Dean's line of sight for now. The prone man had managed to get himself onto his elbows - and Seth was aware he'd have to stop him soon - but for the moment he was content to just watch him squirm. Dean was already beginning to move faster with every passing second, so now was as good a time as any to make himself known. 

“You never did know when to give up, did you?”

“Seeethh?” Dean's speech was slurred and heavily, like a hangover after a night of binge drinking. He'd never personally been chloroformed, but he was sure that wasn't a far off comparison. 

Seth pressed his booted foot right between Dean's shoulder blades and pressed down, forcing him to drop onto his chest, and let the duffle fall right in front of his face. The tools and toys clanged against each other loudly, sending a shiver down Seth's spine. He was going to have to do something about this erection soon, but not before playing with his new toy a while first. 

He released his foot and crouched down, barely holding in the chuckle at the horrified confusion dancing in Dean's blue eyes. Unzipping the bag, he began pulling out his instruments, placing each right in front of Dean so he could see each and every one of them: duct tape, pliers, rope, a bit-gag, a hammer, a wrench, a drill, nails, scissors. If anyone had seen what was in the bag before, they'd have thought Seth was some sort of handy man. Oh, he was handy, just not how one might think. 

Dean was already trying to get away, but his still hazy body wasn't cooperating and it was nothing for Seth to straddle his back and hold him still in the middle of the ring. He grabbed Dean by the hair and wrenched his body up awkwardly so Seth's mouth was right by his ear. “You aren't going anywhere, Deano.”

Dean's hand was gripping at the one Seth had twisted in his hair, trying desperately to pry him off, while the other was holding his upper body up to relieve the pressure on his sternum. He'd forgotten how flexible Dean was, so he pulled back harder to apply more pressure to his spine and neck. The garbled sound of surprise left Seth laughing. The he licked the back of Dean's ear and he seemed to still, like it just hit him what was about to happen. Another laugh and Seth released his hold and Dean face planted into the mat. 

Grabbing the duct tape, he made quick work of pulling Dean's arms behind his back and securing them together, all the while laughing triumphantly at his spoiled of war. Yet, Dean wasn't going to make this easy on him. No, the chloroform had all but wore off and now he was struggling against him. “Quit moving!”

“HELP!” Dean yelled into the empty arena, arching and struggling to throw Seth off of him. “Get offa me!”

Somehow Seth managed to get his feet taped together as well. Next he grabbed the gag and attempted to get it between Dean's teeth. Of course he didn't cooperate, clamping his mouth shut and twisting his head side to side. “Open your goddamn mouth!”

It took some doing, but he managed to slip the bit between Dean's teeth and secure it behind his head. That's when he finally stood up to admire his work - Dean on his stomach, hands and feet bound with silver duct tape, a black leather but between his teeth, and all in the center of the ring. Beautiful, gorgeous, hot, and all his. 

He kicked Dean in the ribs, forcing him to gasp out around the leather between his teeth and twist his body away. It only took a little nudge and he was on his back, helpless and straining. Seth took the opportunity to admire the man and his long, lean figure, his tiny waist, the lines of muscle in his arms as they tugged and pulled, the strong legs under denim.

Again Dean tried to squirm away and managed to roll himself towards the edge of the ring. He still wasn't going to get far, so Seth calmly took the rope and tied it into a strong slipknot before stalking after his prey. He caught him near one of the ring posts, which was perfect. He pulled Dean to his knees and shoved him chest first into the middle turnbuckle. He then slipped the rope around Dean's neck and secured the knot tight. He wrapped the remaining length around the top turnbuckle and pulled it tight, essentially choking Dean, but leaving it just loose enough for him to stay conscious. However, he was going nowhere and Seth had access to his entire back, ass, and thighs. He took a few steps back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

Then he was on him again, plastered against his victims back and running his hands up and down his sides. Try as he might, struggle as he did, Dean only succeeded in tightening the makeshift collar around his neck. Seth grinned against the back of Ambrose's neck, “You know, I've wanted this for a long time.” He said and bit where Dean's neck met his shoulder hard, eliciting a beautiful cry of pain. “You on your knees, at my mercy, to _play_ with as much as I want.”

He removed himself from Dean just long enough to grab the scissors before he was against him again, digging the point of the steel just below Dean's jaw just hard enough for the threat to be there but not enough to break skin. “You're my _prize_ , Dean. My _gift_ for turning on the Shield, for winning the belt off of your little Samoan piece of ass.” 

He took a moment then to inhale the smell of fear coming off of Dean in waves, like an intoxicating drug and he couldn't wait to get his fix. He was so painfully hard in his pants he could barely stand it and began grinding himself against Dean's ass for some sort of friction. Of course Dean tried to pull his hips away, but there was nowhere for him to go trussed up like the beautiful play thing he was. 

“It's fitting, isn't it? Fitting that I should do this to you in the ring.” He snickered. “Fitting because this is where we always end up, Dean. You and I, in this space, fighting as _brothers_ and as _enemies_. It will always come back to this, no matter what we do.”

Dean tried to say something around the gag and only succeeded in drooling around the leather in his mouth. Seth collected it with his free hand and wiped Dean's own spit all over the lunatics face. “So the question remains. What am I going to do with you first? I could hurt you, I plan on it either way.” He bit the shell of Dean's ear hard, forcing a yelp of pain, surprise, Seth didn't really care. “But we have all night for that. I think I'll fuck you first.” 

There was a muffled cry again from behind the gag that could have been a ‘no’, but Seth wasn't listening. He'd begun to cut up the back of Dean's shirt until he was able to tear it free. Then he reached around to unbuckle his belt and tug it from its loops and threw it somewhere outside of the ring. It was nothing then for him to unbutton his jeans and tug them down to mid thigh, leaving Dean exposed for Seth to have his way with him. Again he collected some of the spit dribbling out around the gag and used it to begin stroking Dean's limp dick. Ambrose groaned and tried to pull away, but Seth against his back, holding onto him, made it impossible. He was stuck as Seth began giving him long, slow tugs. 

“Is this how Roman does it, Dean?” He said and licked behind Dean's ear. “Does he give you handys while you drive? Does he stroke you until you can't take it anymore and spill yourself all over his hand?”

Dean's breathing was beginning to change and Seth noticed he was starting to harden under his touch. “You fucking like this, you filthy whore.”

Dean shook his head and again tried to speak around the gag. This only made Seth laugh at him and tug harder on his dick. “Will you tell Roman I made you hard? Will you tell him I tied you up and _hurt_ you? Will you tell him you liked it?”

Dean was moaning out sobs of what could have been pain, pleasure, frustration, anger. But Seth didn't care, he'd made Dean so hard it was hanging heavy between his legs when he let go. He couldn't take it anymore and released his own screaming erection from his pants and sighed a small breath of relief in Dean's ear. Collecting more of Dean's spit in his hand, he quickly coated his own swollen cock and lined himself up with Dean's hole, not bothering to prep him because this wasn't about Dean anyway, and shoved himself in to the hilt with one snap of his hips. Dean screamed, honest to god screamed, in pain. 

Bracing himself in the ropes, he didn't care to let Dean adjust and just started fucking into him with hard, fast thrusts, totally ignoring the pained whimpers from his former brother. He slipped his fingers between the rope around Dean's neck and pulled, sneering at the strangled gasp that escaped, but held on and let himself get lost in the feeling of power that coursed through him. 

And it was power. Ambrose had no choice but to take everything Seth was giving him, despite how he struggled and cursed him behind his gag. His ass was perfect, even as he tried to pull his hips away, which only made Seth thrust harder to make up for it. His hole was so tight around him, so warm, that Seth thought he wouldn't last. He wanted this to last. So he slowed his thrusts and let go of the rope around Dean's neck, reveling in the deep intake of air from the man under him. 

“How do I feel, Dean?” He painted in his ear, scratching his nails down Dean's chest, leaving angry red marks, until he reached his softening cock, stroking it again while he adjusted his angle to hit Deans prostate. His captive began squirming again, trying desperately to get away through the pleasure. “I'm going to make you cum. How do you like that? I'm going to give you the orgasm you never wanted and you're going to fucking love it. You have no choice, because I'm in control! _Fuck_ , you feel so good!”

Seth was close, so fucking close he could taste it. That warmth was pooling in his gut, hot and sweet, with every snap of his hips. He needed Dean to go first, though. He wanted to feel his inner muscles contract around him as he tipped him forcefully over the edge. The ultimate payback. And Dean was close, he could tell by the way he was breathing, the way his muscles strained, the way he wasn't pulling away anymore - whether it was from Seth's assault on him or the fact he'd just given up, it didn't matter. 

Then, Dean's hole convulsed around Seth and he shot his load all over the ring post and the Architect's hand. The contractions of deans orgasm were too much and Seth fell over into that void with him with one hard bite to Dean's shoulder. 

As he came down from his high, he was vaguely aware of Dean, but he wasn't moving. He was shell shocked at what had just happened and Seth laughed, pulling out without ceremony and ignoring the pained whimper from Dean. 

“Look at you.” He chuckled. “Little whore spilled all over the ring. Tell me, was I as good as him?”

Seth pulled himself to his feet, a new excitement building in his chest, and padded over to his bag of tricks. Picking up some nails and the hammer, he turned them over in his hand. Glancing back, he sneered.

Now the real fun could begin. 

“Let's test that pesky pain threshold of yours, shall we?”


End file.
